


Tired

by TiniBopper



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Depressing, Drabble, Dramatic, Gen, Pre-Scratch SGrub Session
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1432303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiniBopper/pseuds/TiniBopper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were all tired, by the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tired

_He never much liked to sleep, during their three-sweep session._

He was outside, watching quietly as Rufioh led Damara into the shade of one of the trees on the Land of Leaves and Gale, watching as they spoke in hushed tones, watching as Damara’s face crumpled into despair and betrayal. He watched as she raised her hand, as if to strike Rufioh, before shaking and pointing away, dismissing him, and he watched as Meenah approached from another direction, a mean-looking sneer on her face—  
—And he was awake, Porrim shaking his shoulders roughly and snapping at him to wake up, for gog’s sake (#religi9us slur), Damara had gone nuts (#a6leism), she was going to kill everyone (#y9u’re 9verreacting), she had already killed Meenah(#tw: vi9lence! #wait, really?), thank gog (#religi9us slur, P9rrim!) for God Tier or they’d be down a Life Player—

_It seemed like every time he did, a new horror would appear in their lives, one after another._

He was running, the ground shaking and white noise echoing through the air, silencing all other sound, skidding to a stop in front of Kurloz’s grand, immense hive. The white noise faded away as the ground stopped shaking, and heaving for breath, he strained to hear any sound. Slowly, the usually quiet, soft-spoken voice of Kurloz rose into nearly desperate wails, crying out a name that sent chills down Kankri’s spine – “Meulin! Meulin!”, and Meulin’s voice, returning, louder than normal: “Purrloz, speak up, I… I can’t…"—  
—And he was awake, choking on slime in his recuperacoon and scrambling out of it while Aranea’s voice echoed down the hall to his hive, begging for him to hurry, Meulin had gone deaf.

_And no matter how long he would put it off, how many days, weeks, even perigees that he would push away the inching sleep, inevitably it would come…_

He was clawing at the doorframe, frozen in his place as he stared in horrified silence into the darkened room. Deep indigo stains riddled the ground, Kurloz choking on his own blood and spitting up more as his shaky hands threaded a needle, a lump of muscle sitting off to the side – the indigo’s severed tongue. Gutteral groans of delirious pain and gurgles of agony pulled from the other’s throat, but the initial scream of pain had eviscerated what was left of his voicebox. He could do nothing but watch as the needle pulled thin, silky black cord taut, stitch after stitch, inch after inch, passing through the thin lips of a broken troll—  
—And the next morning, he awoke to a gaunt skeleton of a troll, eyes dark and mouth sewn shut, where once had been a determined young indigo now stood a deadened and broken heart.

_…and inevitably, he would be caught in the prison of his own mind, watching horrors take place with no freedom to change them._

He was finally on Prospit, his dream self slowly opening his eyes to the golden light of the spires and reflections of Skaia, just in time to see Kurloz and Mituna stepping into the central square – to see Mituna lift up off the ground, float high above, while the light reflected strangely off of both of their eyes, giving it a deep purple glow – to see lightning begin to arc off of the psionic troll, flashing red and blue in an immense display of power as the ground underneath him began to rumble and move, and as Skaia began to fade away into the distance – to see as the lightning doubled back, surrounding Mituna again, to see him begin to scream in agony--  
—And he was awake, equal screams of agony echoing through the gates from the Land of Mirrors and Electricity, as another friend was changed beyond recognition.

_By the end of it all, they were all tired…_

He was standing among the others, their gaunt faces holding grim expressions, the Black King rotting off to the side but nothing awaiting them to go forward. Quiet sobs broke out among Aranea and Porrim as Damara decaptchalogued her Scratch Construct, the Quartz Music Box, pulling the quills of Echidna out of her strife specibus while Meenah tugged out a card of her own, a determined grin on her face—  
—And he was asleep. For the rest of eternity.

_…but, perhaps, he most of all._


End file.
